


Space Jam 2: The Bodyguard

by orphan_account



Category: Space Jam (1996)
Genre: i hate this and you should too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is stupid I don't want to Summarize This
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Space Jam 2: The Bodyguard

Wade was lucky to have this job. Disability pay was scarce for assassins, and, frankly, he was grateful to have been on that golf course. It was 1996, a year after the aliens had revealed themselves to the world by dropping Michael Jordan onto a baseball field. He proceeded to bat 1 for 5 that night, ultimately losing the game for the White Sox. It inspired Wade, it reminded him that, despite any incompetence, or disability-- You can be paid insurmountable sums of money for things you aren't good at. So, now, here he is. A severed head, in the massive hands of the one and only Michael Jordan, in the middle of his offseason vacation. He'd told the Bulls that he had gone to Atlantic City with Dennis Rodman, but, in truth, he had gone to Looney Tunes world.

Also, with Dennis Rodman.

Dennis sat off on the sidelines, up in the rafters, sharing a cigar with the Tazmanian Devil, all while Michael Jordan clutched Wade's head like he was afraid he'd disappear if he didn't. Bumping up against Michael Jordan's ass as he worked himself into the post was Bugs Bunny, the premier point guard of the Toon Squad. He has played one game of organized Basketball in his life, in which he notched 12 points, 27 assists, and 58 turnovers. Michael told him he needed to work on his post defense, so, there he was, getting backed down into the paint by Michael Jordan's massive ass. Whenever he would turn, Wade would try biting at Bugs' fingers. He was never a fan of the concept of hand-checking, and, not to mention-- He was Mike's bodyguard.

Wade had accidentally fallen into Looney Tunes world when Michael and Dennis were sucked into that golf hole. Wade was attempting to kiss an alligator on the lips when, due to the creature's incredible jaw strength and capacity for flailing, Wade was thrown approximately 500 yards away, onto the same green where the two NBA stars were making their trip. Bill Murray, always the prankster, thought it would be funny to kick Wade's head into the hole with them, and, now... Wade was employed.

Michael said he wanted to avoid another Monstars fiasco. He nearly sold himself into slavery, despite having a wife, a girlfriend, and two children. He didn't want to ruin his family. So, he hired the toughest muscle he could get that wasn't a racist old prospector-- Wade. Sure, he was a severed head that was the approximate size and weight of a basketball, he could still kick ass. That was proven when he nearly bit Bug's finger clean off, causing him to clutch his hand and recede from Michael-- Allowed Mike to spin, jump up, and windmill Wade's skull directly through the basket for the easy two points. "Gotta work harder than that," Wade chatters from the ground, now severely concussed. Bugs pointed at him, rage and fury filling his eyes. "That ball is a cheata, doc! A no good, bad-boy, hard foul giving cheata!" Michael shrugged and scooped Wade back up. "Sorry, Bugs. Call your own fouls." Michael proceeded to lift his massive foot and kick Bugs in the chest, clearing the path to the hoop once more, dunking Wade's skull back into the ground. "Get some!" The both of them yell in unison.

Dennis leaned over to the Tazmanian Devil, gravelly, low voice keeping a hushed whisper. "You think Mike is playing too hard?" Taz considered for a moment, puffing his cigar, before turning to Dennis. "BLAGAHBAHGZANBLAHKLAPAB." Dennis nodded and puffed his cigar, adjusting his sunglasses. "You right. Shit, you right-- Maybe we should talk to him--" At that moment, as Michael was about to shoot, his sixth sense rang in the back of his head. He turned away from the basket, looked at Dennis, eyes turning red. "WHAT DID YOU WANT TO SAY? Get him, Wade." Michael reeled his arm back and hurled Wade as hard as he could at Dennis, skulls colliding and Wade thumping down onto the ground next to Taz. Dennis clutched at his forehead for a moment, as Wade tried scooting closer to the cigar he'd dropped. "That's what I thought," Mike mumbled, before turning back to the basket, miming a jumpshot, and forming a basketball out of thin air. "That's 2," he says, much to Bugs' disbelief.

Later that day, Wade and Michael had finally gotten a peaceful moment alone-- Shooting free throws. "Can you believe what he said?" Wade shook his features as he sailed through the air. "Can't believe it, Mike." Michael glared at him as he picked him back up. "Mister Jordan. Sorry." Michael tossed another free throw into the air. "Can't trust anybody on that damn team. Scottie, getting debilitating migraines, like some kind of bitch. Dennis, getting Madonna pregnant between games. Phil, smoking all that pot. At least I got you, Wade." Wade's head clunked against the backboard and into the hoop, a little bit of blood and a few teeth pouring of his mouth as he came back down to the ground. "You're damn right, you've got me, boss."


End file.
